It was here that Virginsky saw Aglaia Filippovna’s eyes start open. As Princess Naryskina continued reading, the two intense circles of turquoise flashed towards the bloody towel. The eyes widened. At the same time, Aglaia Filippovna’s hand came to life, struggling to pull itself free of Porfiry’s hold.
Her eyes swivelled briefly up to meet Porfiry’s.
‘Aglaia Filippovna, don’t be afraid. My name is Porfiry Petrovich. I am an investigating magistrate. I know everything, my dear. Everything. I am here to help you get better.’ Virginsky noticed that he was still toying incessantly with her hand, in particular turning an imaginary nut around an imaginary thread at the base of her thumb.
Aglaia Filippovna’s eyelids snapped to over the glorious colour of her irises, as if withholding something precious from the undeserving. The tension that had come into her body left it. She seemed to be lost to them again.
‘What did that p-pantomime achieve?’
‘It’s too early to say for sure,’ confessed Porfiry. ‘You may take the towel away now, Pavel Pavlovich. And, thank you, madam, for your assistance. You have helped me more than you can know. More than even I had hoped.’
‘Is that it?’ Prince Sergei voiced the question that was foremost in Virginsky’s mind. Porfiry’s experiment seemed to have ended in anti-climax. The same soft amber ripples flitted across the ceiling. Virginsky wondered if he had imagined the colour of her eyes.
40 A game of billiards
That evening, Porfiry invited Virginsky to dine with him at Domenika’s on Nevsky Prospekt. He could not face going back to his apartment. A confrontation with Slava was overdue, but Porfiry had too much else on his mind to relish that prospect. And the thought of dining alone depressed him. Besides, he liked his young colleague. That said, he was not in the mood to talk over the events of the day, and he knew that that was what Virginsky would naturally wish to do. Porfiry felt unusually on edge. He craved distraction. He had a sense of the case as a vast but fragile lattice-work. Each of the pieces that comprised it was a supposition resting on an assumption. Somewhere at the base of it, perhaps, was a firm and irrefutable kernel of evidence. But so much had been built on so little that he could not now distinguish fact from speculation. If just one piece proved to be faulty, the whole edifice would collapse. He knew that what he should do was subject this mental construction to scrutiny, to see if it held up. But all he wanted to do was eat and drink, and afterwards, perhaps, divert himself with a game of billiards. He found the clack and clatter of balls from the billiard room comforting, and was saddened when the gypsy players struck up.
‘Is this a celebration, Porfiry Petrovich?’
‘What do we have to celebrate?’ Porfiry could not keep the weariness out of his voice as he shouted over the music.
‘I know everything! Were not those your words to Aglaia Filippovna? So you have worked it out? You have solved the mystery?’
‘Ah, but perhaps that was simply part of my psychological experiment.’
‘Perhaps? How can you speak of your own actions with such uncertainty? Surely you know what was in your own mind?’
‘Does anyone? Ever?’
‘Please don’t take refuge in philosophical generalisations. It is only a reluctance to share your thoughts that leads you into obfuscation.’
Porfiry smiled and felt the tension of the smile in his facial muscles. He really did not have the energy for Virginsky’s challenging banter. He sighed morosely and fixed his attention on picking the bones out of a piece of sturgeon. ‘But I may be wrong, you see. And to voice my suspicions when I am wrong will be very damaging.’
‘For whom?’
‘For the one I accuse, of course. Surely you of all people should be mindful of that.’
‘You are not thinking of your reputation?’
‘It’s too late to concern myself with my reputation. My career is almost at an end, Pavel Pavlovich. No, there is no almost about it. I feel this may well be my last major investigation. It is not simply a case of physical energy, which is sadly all too lacking. I feel that my mental powers are waning too.’
Porfiry lit a cigarette to smoke as he ate.
‘But you acted with such confidence this afternoon!’
‘In truth, I do not know how I succeeded in summoning it. It was founded on nothing. The exercise has left me empty and exhausted. Prince Sergei was right. It was a pantomime that proved nothing. I was trying to force the issue, to bring about some decisive revelation. To shock Aglaia Filippovna into bearing witness. Instead, I merely made a fool of myself. Please, do not attempt to contradict me. There have been too many factors beyond my control in this case. You spoke of my reputation. I suspect I have the reputation of being an arch manipulator. People believe I am able to play the human soul like a pipe organ, pulling and pushing the stops to get the sound I want. But all along I have felt myself manipulated by outside forces and agencies. It has been very trying. I fear it may have forced me into making an elementary mistake. I have come to regard everything as part of one all-encompassing conspiracy. But what if it is not? What if there are merely a number of random events — or rather, events connected only by their awfulness? And what if this is an awfulness I can do nothing about? I know that Innokenty’s killer is beyond my reach, beyond justice, untouchable. He is protected by powerful parties, and I am too old, too fat, too weak, too scared to take them on. You were right, Pavel Pavlovich. I am Oblomov.’
‘No.’
‘I should just take my dressing gown and retire to the country. Perhaps I should buy an estate and preside over its ruin. That is the Russian way, is it not?’
‘It doesn’t have to be.’
‘I find all I want to do is drink champagne and play billiards. Will you play billiards with me, Pavel Pavlovich?’
‘Of course. But I warn you I am very good.’
‘A wager then!’
‘I do not play for money.’
‘Then why play at all?’
‘Very well, we will play for dinner. Will that satisfy you?’
‘But you are here as my guest. It was always my intention to pick up the bill. Money, Pavel Pavlovich — I want to smell your money and roll it in my fingers.’
‘Why are you so determined to force me into gambling?’
‘Because I never will trust a man who does not gamble.’
‘In that case … ten roubles!’
‘Paper roubles?’
‘Do you have any objection?’
Porfiry shrugged. ‘I just wish to make sure that everything is clear. We don’t want any arguments later.’
‘When I take your money off you, you mean?’
‘When I take your money off you, I rather think!’
‘Nevskaya rules?’
‘Come, shake on it,’ said Porfiry. ‘And we will prevail upon one of the waiters to pull our hands apart.’
*
Virginsky won the lag for break, his ball settling less than an inch from the baulk cushion. Porfiry, who was by now well into the second bottle of Veuve Clicquot, had sent his careening wildly from end to end.
‘Have you played billiards before, Porfiry Petrovich?’
‘It is all part of my tactics.’
‘Before you concern yourself with tactics,’ said Virginsky sententiously, as he racked the pyramid of ivory-white balls, ‘it would be as well to master the basic technique. I fear you are applying too much force to your cue action.’
‘Nonsense!’
Virginsky broke tightly without pocketing, although the single red ball ricocheted between the jaws of the top right pocket, leaving Porfiry with an easy pot. However, he chose to ignore this, instead going for a reckless long shot that he executed with heavy-handed ineptitude, opening up the pyramid to let Virginsky in.
Porfiry watched forlornly as Virginsky played a series of skilful in-offs, repeatedly sinking the red. Porfiry was left to apply the same diligence and determination to draining the champagne bottle as Virginsky did to making shots.